Filigrees, Fortunes and Foul Play

by Emily Selby

  Katie wiped the moisture gathering in her eyes and blew her nose.

  One meagre cup of coffee and a few tissues later, Katie woke Julia and got on with their usual morning routine.

  At the school gate, Katie kissed Julia.

  'Are you sure you don't want me to pick you up after school to take you to the drama class?'

  'No! We've got it all organised. Ines' mum is taking us. She'll bring all the props. We have pumpkins and lanterns prepared. We did it the other day at Ines'.'

  Julia's stomach clenched. Yep, another reason to feel inadequate as a parent. And she missed her daughter. Oh, well. She'd make it up to her once this dreadful investigation was over. Maybe she and Julia could go away for the weekend and do something nice together. They could talk about it tonight. Katie forced her lips to smile. Everything sounded better when said with a smile.

  'Righty-oh! Have fun, girls. I want to hear all about it tonight.'

  With her heart still somewhat heavy, and her head still somewhat muddied, Katie drove to Une Tasse de Bonheur - a tearoom with a coffee-to-go service. She couldn't do much to improve on her parenting before the evening, but she could fix her head.

  Une Tasse de Bonheur was the only shop without a long queue of coffee lovers at this time of day. Technically a tearoom, with the coffee served only in the morning, the place wasn't popular with the 'coffee on the go' morning crowd. Plus, both owners, Sunita and Miriam, were also fellow Paper Crafts Club members, and Katie was hoping to get express service.

  All this, assuming she wouldn't get caught up in the web of gossip, because both owners also belong to another powerful, yet informal group in town - the local gossipers. Or, as Michelle called them, The Local Gossipers with Capital Letters.

  There were only a couple of people inside, sitting by the lovely white tables sipping on their morning beverages of choice. Some of them were reading the morning paper.

  Sunita Patel stood behind the counter. 'Hello, Katie,' she welcomed her warmly. 'You look awful. Did you even manage to get any sleep last night?'

  Katie let the comment about her looks slide by. After all, she had seen her face in the mirror this morning and it didn't look appealing with dark shadows under her eyes and her hair all frizzy from the woolly hat.

  'I see the whole town already knows,' she replied, frowning.

  'Yes, it was horrible. The blaze apparently was visible from afar.' Sunita's dark eyes turned even bigger and rounder.

  No, it wasn't, Katie thought, but made a noncommittal sound.

  'A long black please. No sugar.'

  'Extra shot?' Sunita asked, raising her eyebrows.

  'I'd be fine with the standard one.' Katie replied. Her skin was pricking. She wanted out-out-out and away!

  'Do you know what happened to Barbara?' Sunita carried on, while working the coffee machine.

  'No, not really.'

  'Apparently she's still unconscious.'

  Sunita's husband was one of the local GPs. The hospital gossip from her was quite reliable, Katie decided.

  'Your hubby was on-call last night?'

  'No. But I've talked with Rina, you know, the triage nurse from Accident and Emergency. We used to work together.'

  Sunita used to work part time as a practice nurse before a sudden career crisis pushed her to buy the tearoom. 'Imagine that... poor Barbara. She wasn't particularly well-liked, but I feel for her. Getting attacked like that in your own neighbourhood.'

  'What was she even doing there?'

  'Apparently, she must have seen a light in the workshop and went to check. It's yours, that workshop, isn't it?'

  Katie cringed on the inside. As much as she liked Sunita's chattiness, today it was making her very uncomfortable. On the other hand, since she was already here, with such an excellent source of local gossip at hand, Katie wanted to make the best of it.

  'Barbara is an interesting woman.' Katie changed the topic. 'I've heard she's done a lot for the local community. She was a nurse, wasn't she? Why isn't she popular?'

  Sunita reached for the plastic lid.

  'She's always been a strange woman since she was a little girl. Quiet. Kept to herself. Yes, she worked as a nurse, then went teaching in the nursing college. Obviously, I didn't train here, but many girls I've worked with had and they talked about Barbara sometimes. Apparently, she was bitter and very demanding even back then. She was fair, but if you got into her bad books, she could sting!' Sunita shook her head. 'Many tears were shed because of Barbara Cambridge, I tell you.'

  'Are you talking about Barbara?' Miriam Fischer cut in, appearing from the kitchen with a plate piled high with a mouth-watering full English breakfast. She put the plate on a tray.

  'I've heard some nasty comments that this was why she never married, even though she used to be a very attractive woman.'

  'She still is,' Kate protested. Indeed, Barbara's tall, straight silhouette, her long grey hair still bore the remnants of her beauty.

  'Anyhow,' Miriam said, adding a jug of hot water, a teacup and a bag of tea to the tray, 'this is not a reason to murder anyone.'

  'But nobody's murdered her,' Katie said a little too loud. The man reading the paper nearby lifted his head and tutted her.

  'Someone did try, though,' Sunita said, putting the paper cup in front of Katie.

  'Maybe she saw Phyllis' murderer. And now he came to get rid of the witness,' Sunita voiced her theory.

  'Barbara was in the library all that time. I saw her myself.' Miriam placed a hand on her hip. 'But I wouldn't be surprised if it wasn't true, and they find out it was Barbara who killed Phyllis'

  'Don't say that, Miriam. Barbara was a nurse, a very good nurse. You can't be a murderous nurse.'

  'Yes, you can,' Miriam snapped back. 'I'm not saying she did that. I'm just alluding to the fact that apparently Barbara and Phyllis didn't get on.'

  'Hardly a surprise. Neither of them was particularly easy-going.'

  'Don't use the past tense when speaking of Barbara. I hope she gets well, soon. Honestly!'

  Miriam put a tiny jug with milk in the only free spot on the tray.

  'Not my generation, you see, but my mum used to go to school with Barbara. And Mum told me this morning that poor Barbara has always been unlucky. Mum even made a comment that Barbara must have liked suffering or something. I don't know if this was because she was a vicar's daughter. Anyhow, something about her, I'm not sure - living opposite William Dunbar. Like she was in love with him once, and he broke her heart, or something.'

  Sunita looked at Miriam curiously. 'Interesting... I didn't even know that.'

  'You see. Maybe you need to get out more.' Miriam laughed and grabbed the tray. She swanned off to the table in the corner.

  'And she's bottled it up for all those years, poor Barbara,' Sunita added. 'She must have tortured herself living across the street from her old flame. On the other hand, you never know with our Barbara.' Sunita shook her head. 'She's so proud, so superior.'

  Katie made another noncommittal sound and took her purse out to pay. The trip had proven useful.

  Katie attempted to fish for some more juicy details.

  'And now, I've inherited this cursed workshop,' she said, waiting for Sunita to give her change.

  'Cursed?' Sunita asked.

  'Well, two people injured, the building is burnt. Why would anyone want anything from an old building that had been unused for years? One would think there is some hidden treasure in there?' Katie delivered her bait and now waited with bated breath.

  Sunita closed the till with a familiar chime.

  'You never know,' she said, suddenly all serious. 'William Dunbar was a man of many secrets.'

  'Don't say that. Phyllis would have smacked you on the head.' A much younger voice cut in. Katie turned to see Trish Bollard, another Paper Crafts Club member. 'William was the holiest man in the whole town.'

  Sunita and Trish laughed. Katie grabbed her coffee, took her leave, and rushed to her car. It was gettin
g late.

  Her ears were pricking. She couldn't wait to share her findings with someone, ideally Jack. And to ask him some more questions.

  18

  An unfamiliar, unmarked car in the car park caught Katie's eye as she was parking her Micra. It looked like a police car. Possibly from Carlisle, if not Newcastle. She hadn't seen it around before. What were they doing here?

  The staff room was buzzing with life, despite a relatively early hour.

  Celia was making a pot of coffee, lining up several cups.

  'Hey, morning, Celia. Need a hand with that?'

  'Wouldn't mind. We've got visitors.' Celia pointed towards the interview room with her chin.

  'I've seen the car. Who are they?'

  'Financial Fraud team.'

  'What?' Katie's head spun. 'Who for?'

  Celia smiled smugly. 'Watch the back door.'

  The back door? This usually meant bringing someone in under a police escort. As in, arrested and handcuffed.

  Obviously, Celia knew but wasn't going to share it with Katie. So, Katie took milk from the fridge and put it on the tray together with a bowl of sugar.

  'I'll take it in. You cover the front desk,' Katie said and grabbed the tray.

  She knocked on the interview room door with her foot. Jack opened and greeted her with a curt nod. He, too, had dark circles under his eyes and a deep shadow of stubble on his pale cheeks. He clearly didn't have time or energy to shave this morning.

  'Thanks Katie.' He took the tray from her and put it on the table, where three men in dark, civilian clothes were sitting.

  A few minutes later, to her even bigger surprise: Julian Fischer walked in accompanied by an unknown man dressed in a long, beige coat and a matching hat. Julian carried a large brown envelope under his arm.

  Had they finally managed to convince Julian to talk, or have they raised a warrant to see the church books?

  Things must have progressed since she’d last caught up with Jack.

  Julian and the official-looking man entered the interview room. Jack asked for two glasses of water, which Katie supplied.

  It all happened in an unusual silence. Celia was busy writing a report on last night’s events. Katie watched her for a few minutes. A sense of dread loomed over the place, as though something was about to happen.

  'Celia,' Katie broke the uncomfortable silence. 'Is there any news on the fire last night? Who could have started it? I hope nobody thinks I set fire to my own workshop?'

  Celia raised her head from the keyboard. ' We're still investigating, but you're probably safe. I think the fire was set to destroy the evidence.'

  'The evidence of what?'

  'Some sort of crime. The inspector thinks the perpetrator tried to cover the break-in. Or maybe destroy something inside the workshop.'

  That was an interesting hypothesis. 'Like what?'

  'Something valuable, of course, whether the value was material or otherwise. Any idea what this might have been?'

  'No,' Katie replied. 'Roy would be a better person to ask. What does it look like now?'

  'An old, disused workshop, a couple of tools and pieces of wood lying around and a lot of dust. It's all wet now, since the firefighters finished with it. We can’t ask Roy yet, he’s still in hospital in Newcastle. Doctors say his condition is stable, but he can't be interviewed today.'

  'Let's hope Barbara recovers enough to shed some light on it.'

  A few minutes later, Jack walked out of the interview room wearing a relaxed smile. The sparkle was back in his eyes.

  'Right,' he rubbed his hands. 'How's it going?'

  'Here's my report, sir.' Celia pointed to her screen. 'The guys are doing a door-to-door in the area. But so far, they’ve come up with nothing of much use. Someone saw a van passing by shortly before 1 am, likely Roy's, but nothing beforehand.'

  'The attacker might have arrived on foot.'

  'Or on a bike.' Celia added. 'But no bikes reported, sir,' she added promptly.

  'What about the site? Any evidence found there?'

  'The forensic team haven't found anything yet. The window was broken with a brick, which was later used to attack Barbara Cambridge. No useful fingerprints or footprints. Even though it didn’t destroy the workshop, the fire might have concealed valuable evidence. But the investigators suspect that the arsonist brought a ladder or something to help climb through the window. There were marks on the ground and inside, on the floor.'

  'A clever one,' Katie said quietly. 'Probably not the first time climbing through windows.'

  Jack looked at her and Katie would swear there was a hint of appreciation in his eyes.

  'And Roy? How did he get in?'

  'I think Roy got in through the broken window, but there was no ladder in place. We suspect the attacker had been and gone by then. Roy had blood on his hands, from cuts and bruises.'

  Katie shuddered.

  'Blood on his hands sounds horrible,' she said. 'Are you sure it was his own blood?'

  'Yeah, the hospital checked it. They reported cuts and pieces of glass still stuck in his hands,' Jack replied. 'What about the suspects?' he asked Celia. "Have you checked their alibis? Roy rang the ambulance at 12.57 am'.

  Celia hesitated. She looked at Katie and then at Jack.

  'Go on, ask me away,' Katie laughed, but her laughter died on her lips. Celia's face was serious, and so was Jack's.

  'Can you account for your movements last night, Katie?'

  'Sure, I can,' Katie answered, not feeling all that certain. 'I spent the evening at home, with my daughter. But if you can’t take a ten-year-old’s word for it, I'm sure Mrs Gerard can help. I dared to play music a little too loud while doing some well-overdue chores,' she said, suddenly feeling grateful for oversensitive and overassertive neighbour. 'She popped in to say hello and ask me to turn the music down, which I did.'

  'Thanks,' said Jack. 'We also need to check the vicar.' He said handing Celia a piece of paper he had been holding all the time. 'It looks as though he had a good reason to get rid of Phyllis Dunbar. She discovered some irregularities in the books and would not stop prying, as Mr Fischer says.' He nodded towards the interview room. 'The fraud team are investigating. It looks as though Mr Fischer noticed some missing money and raised it with the vicar, but the vicar reassured him everything was under control.'

  'Was it?' Celia asked.

  'No. And it hasn't been for a while. The vicar may need to answer some questions from the fraud team as well. Celia, can you please check Vera's alibi for last night?'

  'Already done, sir. She was at work, doing a casual shift as a healthcare assistant in a care home, some ten kilometres away from the crime scene. A colleague and the shift coordinator confirmed that. The colleague was a bit vague, but the shift coordinator saw Vera around 10.30 pm - at the handover time, and then helping to manage a difficult resident. She can't recall last time she saw Vera and can’t be one hundred per cent sure Vera was there throughout the whole procedure. Vera is not a regular employee. They only use her in emergency situations. This was one of those days.'

  Jack nodded.

  'Great job, Celia. Having said this, Vera could theoretically leave the premises and come back to town, break into the workshop and assault Barbara, I suppose.'

  'Theoretically, yes. If she had a car. It only takes a few minutes to drive back to town at that time of night.'

  'I don't think I've ever seen Vera driving a car,' Katie cut in, surprised by her own discovery. 'I've seen her walking, cycling, using public transport, but not driving.'

  Celia and Jack looked at her.

  'Interesting point,' Jack said. 'But let's go back to the beginning. Why would she do it? What was the motive?'

  Katie shook her head. 'No idea.'

  Celia shook her head, too. 'She doesn't seem to fit at all.'

  Katie opened her mouth to share the gossip she gathered this morning, but her phone rang. After apologising to Jack and Celia, she stepped away to answer it. />
  'This is Ms Bloom's office. Ms Bloom needs to talk to you in connection with the will of the late Mrs Dunbar. Can you come in now or this afternoon?' the woman on the other end of the line asked.

  'I can't. I'm working,' Katie replied. Her heart sank. Ideally, she'd just pretend this had never happened. She hated legal procedures. The lingo made her dizzy and she was never sure if she'd given the right answer.

  'What about tomorrow at 9 am?'

  'I'm working, too. Do I really need to come? Can this be done over the phone or by mail? I don't even understand...'

  The woman sighed. Katie sensed irritation in her voice.

  'How about I talk to the solicitor now. Maybe that can help?' Katie added hastily.

  'I doubt it,' the woman said with a hint of superiority in her clipped voice, 'but I can check with her. Hold on.'

  Katie waited. After less than a minute, the woman was back on the line.

  'Transferring you through.'

  Fortunately, the solicitor was nicer than her secretary. After some explanations of the need to sure Mrs Dunbar's will was valid (gasp), the inheritance tax issues (stomach in a knot), and the general overview of the inheritance process (dizziness), Katie felt a little clearer, but still overwhelmed.

  'Thank you very much for explaining it. I need to think things through a little. But for now, can I ask you one question?'

  'You can. I may not be able to answer it though.'

  'Why did Mrs Dunbar leave me the workshop? I wasn't a family or a close friend.'

  'She noted that in her will, in fact. You would have known if you'd attended the reading.' A hint of reproach coloured the solicitor's voice. 'She felt you were a hard-working, honest woman who had been taken advantage by someone, as she put it. She also thought that as a creative person you could do something with the workshop. From my personal conversation with her, and please be advised this is by no way a requirement, Mrs Dunbar was hoping you could refurbish the workshop and maybe open a craft shop there.'